“The evening light was like honey in the treesWhen you left me and walked to the end of the streetWhere the sunset abruptly ended.The wedding-cake drawbridge lowered itselfTo the fragile forget-me-not flower.You climbed aboard.Burnt horizons suddenly paved with golden stones,Dreams I had, including suicide,Puff out the hot-air balloon now.It is bursting, it is about to burst”

“Full of promise, full of dreams, full of shit. Mostly just full of yourself. So full you’re bursting. And then you get out into the world, and people empty you out, little by little, like air from a balloon.”

“And suddenly it smelled like someone forgot to turn on the gravity. The air was so fresh and light you could practically float on it. Flowers were everywhere, all of them bursting with color.”

“I totally remember what it felt like to be so full…Full of promise, full of dreams, full of shit. Mostly just full of yourself. So full you’re bursting. And then you get out into the world, and people empty you out, little by little, like air from a balloon…You try like hell to fill yourself up with fresh air, from you and from other people. But back then…it was so damn effortless to feel full, you know? All you had to do was breathe”

“Genius feels like an over extended Helium balloon about to burst, and everyone criticizes you for not having a conventional way of coping with it.”

“On those days, I feel like a balloon blown to capacity, ready to burst.”